


Pranking that nerd

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Beforian trolls, Nerd!Cronus, Other, Pre incident!Mituna, Pre-Sgrub AU, Pre-game AU, Urine, Watersports
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2017-12-28 11:56:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Mituna Captor and you are so going to own this nerd.</p><p>(Pre-game setting with pre-incident!Mituna and magic nerd!Cronus. This contains watersports.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. That was an accident.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to write... A following... With actual smut. I'll do it at some point. I already started it actually.  
> I'm so sorry for this fic.

Your name is Mituna Captor and you are so going to own this nerd. You and Cronus have had this sort of rivalry going for a long time now. It’s nothing black, really, you like him too much for it to be this kind of rivalry, but still. You’re always going too close to black for him to be comfortable, without ever making a move in this direction. You know it drives him insane. And why wouldn’t it, after all? He’s just that poor magic nerd who never entered a quadrant with anyone.  
  
Being a seadweller and having a long lifespan, he’s also way shorter than you because of his slow growth. He’ll be taller one day, you know it, but for now, you can still look down on him. It’s fun.  
  
You snicker at the thought from where you hid, behind his stupid pile of scarfs, in his hive. You’ve been waiting for half an hour already, but it’s worth it. This is the BEST prank ever.  
  
You kneel down behind the impressive pile of clothing he probably has feelings jam with Kankri on, and wait patiently and silently. Soon he’ll be back in his hive. Wait for it…  
  
There he goes. He pushes the door open and walks in quickly, probably eager to play with his shitty wands, you assume. This dork his so much of a wriggler sometimes… You’d think it’s adorable, if you weren’t too busy finding it annoying as fuck. You call “Ampora!” from behind the pile and he stops abruptly, turning around as you stand above the scarfs to look at him.  
  
“Seriously, Mit? I don’t havwe time for your stuff right nowv, come back later!”  
  
What a nerd. He doesn’t even dare swear.  
  
“Nah, sorry CN, gonna do this shit.”  
  
He frowns and tries to run away again, but you use your psionics to trap his ankles together and he falls to the floor with a shout, catching himself with his hand before his face hits the ground.  
  
“That’s frickin’ cheating!”  
  
“Ain’t cheating when there are no rules, fishbulge.”  
  
He groans, trying to crawl away. You snicker at his pathetic attempts as you catch both his arms with your psionics and pin them behind his back. He screams again as his head falls down and hits the floor with a loud thud. In the movement, his glasses fall from his face and slide on the floor a few steps away from him. Okay, maybe that was a little harsh. Considering the sound his skull made right now, that must have hurt. You still don’t lose your smile and walk to him.  
  
“Did you really think you could just crawl away like that? That’s sort of pathetic, Ampora.”  
  
He tries to growl at you but it comes out weak. He’s probably still in pain and too busy with that to try and be convincing.  
  
“You can play your stupid pranks later, Mit! I told you I didn’t havwe time for it right nowv! Just let me go for a minute and then vwe can fight or vwhatevwer it is you vwant.”  
  
You shake your head slowly.  
  
* “So you could go and retrieve Ahab’s Crosshairs? No way.”  
  
“I don’t vwanna do that, I svwear! Just let go!”  
  
Does he think you’re going to believe this? You know your friend/enemy better than that. He’s obviously trying to get that enormous gun of his, and if THAT isn’t cheating, you don’t know what is. You push his face down onto the floor with your psionics so he’ll shut up at last. It’s pretty fun watching him like that. He’s very small, you note. You kind of feel like an asshole for this, but it doesn’t stop you. You are going to play this prank. Last time he fucking put a BUCKET on your head. A bucket! You didn’t think the jerk even had it in him to touch the filthy thing. Yet he managed to pull it off, enough for it to end up on your head. Sure no one saw you, but it was still horrible. He’s going to pay for it.  
  
He whines low on the floor and you realize you’ve been pressing his forehead hard against it. Better stop now, you don’t want to make his skull explode or anything. You let go of his head. He pants heavily, apparently in pain, and you note he’s trying to close his legs. What’s the deal, is he feeling bad about his scrawny ass being in the air or something? What a nerd. You’re not even interested in his clothed butt. He’s really stupid. You still don’t get why people like him, why somehow, you like him in the end.  
  
Well that’s sort of a lie, you sort of get it. He’s small, obsessed with his shitty magic fairytales, he runs around dressed as a wizard, and he thinks he’s going to grow out to be a powerful mage, when really, he’s just a dork. He’s honestly sort of cute with all that. Doesn’t make you want to leave you alone, though. Maybe you’re kind of a bully, but he reciprocates, so even if it’s unfair, no one can say anything. Kurloz may not approve, but fuck Kurloz. He’s your moirail, not your lusus.  
  
You approach the pathetic troll whining on the floor.  
  
“Now say sorry for putting that fucking bucket on my head, and maybe I’ll let you go.”  
  
“Damn you!”  
  
He can’t even say ‘fuck you’. That’s adorable. But you also hate it, and you slap him.  
  
“I said “say sorry”, Ampora!”  
  
He shakes his head the best he can, closing his eyes, waiting for another slap. You don’t give it. You just let him stay on the floor, looking down at him silently. After a minute of this awkward situation (for him, it’s pretty fun for you) he starts wriggling around again.  
  
“What is it, CN? Is the floor of your hive not comfortable enough for your fish face?”  
  
“Just let me go!”  
  
“No.”  
  
That’s all you say, and he closes his legs again (what is he trying to do with that? You don’t understand the thing with his legs). You grin and force his ankles far apart from each other, spreading his legs wide. The poor fucker cries out as if he was in pain.  
  
“Stop that!”  
  
“No.”  
  
He struggles, but no struggle can help with the psionics. You guess you’ll get to the next step of your plan. You carefully uncaptchalogue a bucket that you prepared before. You filled it with warm water, but you added yellow coloring, so you know he’s going to mistake it for material and freak out. Serves him well!  
  
You approach him with the bucket, but something seems off with him and you stop. He’s trying to close his legs again even though you’re holding them spread wide, wriggling around and you think you know what’s going on. Maybe… Maybe you should let him go, actually… You look at him uncomfortably, unsure of what to do. You’re about to get your revenge… Maybe you shouldn’t let go just yet…  
  
You realize it was an error as his struggling suddenly stops and you watch, amazed and horrified, a damp violet spot appear on the crotch of his blue pants. It expands rapidly and liquid starts dripping down his legs and onto the floor, creating a small puddle under him. Oh, fuck. That’s why he was walking so quickly when he came in. The poor fucker needed to go to the bathroom, and like the stupid jerk you are, you couldn’t fucking guess that. You realize he’s silently sobbing. And the worst thing of all, you think you’re starting to get a fucking boner. What the hell? You’re looking at your crying friend/enemy that you just made piss himself on the floor, and you’re thinking it’s hot.  
  
Eventually, you let go of his arms and ankles. But instead of getting up, he just falls down onto the floor, lying down in his own urine. It’s filthy and disgusting and fuck, you’re still having a boner. Both of your bulges are twisting around in your pants, searching for friction. He’s still sobbing. What are you supposed to do?  
  
Finally you decide that, both for him and for you, it would be less awkward and humiliating if you pretended that you didn’t notice it at all.  
  
“Why are you even crying?” you ask as if you didn’t perfectly know it. He doesn’t even bother answering.  
  
“Anyways, I needa finish my prank.” You feel bad for doing this, but it would be a lot more awkward if you just left right now. You take the bucket and hold it up, then you pour its content on him. He lets out a warbled sound – probably an attempt at a startled yelp – as the hot water falls onto his skin and rinses off the piss. You captchalogue the bucket again. He looks at the liquid and his eyes widen as he recognizes the color. You’ll need to send him a message later to tell him it wasn’t really material. You finally turn around from all this and practically run away from his hive.  
  
You need to take care of both these boners in your pants.


	2. Owning that nerd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so there's actual non-con in this chapter, so I'll warn you beforehand.

            Your name is Mituna Captor and it’s been an entire week since neither you nor Cronus tried to prank each other. Even though it’s been quite calm, you don’t like it. Whenever you cross his path – and it happens so few often that you think he’s avoiding you – he looks away, uncomfortable and humiliated, and you really, really feel bad for it. You did send him a message telling him it was just colored water, not material, but he never answered. It sort of worries you.

            But the worse part of it all is that you keep thinking about that accident. Not just remembering it: you enjoy thinking about it. Or, let’s be very honest. It makes you aroused. Whenever you think about the hot violet liquid dripping down his legs while you kept them spread wide and watched, it makes your groin hot. You can’t pretend you didn’t masturbate thinking about it more than you’d like to admit. You just can’t help grabbing your bulges and stroking them feverishly whenever you start thinking about him lying on the floor in a puddle of his own piss. Your fantasies have been getting worse and worse. First you just replayed in your head the scene: him pissing himself in front of you, the urine running down his tight pants’ legs along his skin and hitting the floor; then you emptying the contents of a bucket on him, covering him and washing him with your color.

            But the fantasy lost its power quickly as you thought about it too much and you started daydreaming about more. About you pouring actual material on him and watching him covered in your fresh cum. About you tearing off his clothes and watching him, coated in his own piss and lying on the floor. When you started masturbating to the thought of taking him on the floor, fucking him with his urine as a lubricant and filling him up with your material, you knew you had to do something about it.

            It was really douchey of yours to decide to make him piss himself again. You knew he had been humiliated he first time, to the point of crying. And yet… There you are: waiting in his bathroom for him to come in, in order to trap him once he needs to piss. You’ve been here for two hours. It’s long, but worth it. To pass time, you repeat in your head all you’re going to do to him. This is wrong and probably disgusting but hell if you can stop yourself. You need him.

            Another ten minutes or so and you hear footsteps. Your blood pusher is beating hard in your chest. He doesn’t come here, though. He seems to be doing something in the other room. You hear him whisper to himself and all those little steps he’s taking all over the room so you assume he’s practicing his bullshit magic thing. He does that a lot.

            It takes him twenty minutes for him to decide he needs to go to the bathroom. You’re lying in the ablution trap, impatient as possible. The door opens and you hold your breath. He doesn’t notice you, probably because he directs himself to the toilet directly without looking in your direction. He’s almost reached it when you stop him with your psionics and yank him away from it. A whisper of “what the hell” escapes his mouth as he falls down onto the floor. You’re quick to come over and push his face down, clapping a hand over his mouth to stop him from screaming.

“So how’s it going, CN? Still practicing your magic, I see? I’ve been waiting for god knows how long in this fucking bathroom. I was getting impatient, you know.”

            He looks up at you with a confused, angry glare. He probably doesn’t understand what you’re doing here. Of course he didn’t try to prank you any more since the last time you did. You take his stupid scarf and tie it around his head and over his mouth so he can’t talk. He tries to scream and it still makes too much sound for you, so you push the thick fabric in his mouth to shut him down. Only muffled noises come from him now. You take the ends of the scarf and tie his hands behind his back; then, you let your psionics off him. He can’t do much but struggle to try and get up, but he obviously can’t. You move over him and push your hands on his back to pin him down.

“No need to wriggle that much, Ampora. You know you can’t move.”

            With those words you grab his thighs and push them apart, tearing a whine from him that you can still somewhat hear through the scarf. Those pants of his are real tight. You note that, though you never thought of him as particularly attractive, in this position you can clearly see how much of a nice ass he has. Actually, he’s not bad to look at. You just never thought of him that way. Now that you do he looks real cute. You gently push a knee between his legs and rub between his thighs and against his nook. A flush is growing on his face and you grin.

“Do you like this, Cronus? Does it feel good?”

            Though, your plan here isn’t really to make him feel good, not yet. You know with this stimulation he’ll have trouble keeping himself from pissing. And effectively, his thighs are trembling in your hands and he’s wriggling around and struggling to get out, his little legs moving erratically, trying to close as you force them open. You don’t let it faze you and keep pressing your knee against his nook and rubbing hard and fast.

            It doesn’t take long for him to give up, not as long as you thought it would. With a pitiful groan and a panicked look in his eyes he eventually releases his bladder. You let him soil your pantsleg and his clothes without a care in the world, feeling your two bulges already straining against your underwear, eager to get inside of him. One of them starts seeking your nook and you let out a groan as you feel it enter you. Your genitalia is fucking itself as you roughly pull Cronus’s pants down and look at his nook soiled with piss. It’s the most beautiful sight you’ve witnessed in long.

            You kneel between his legs so he can’t close them and let go of them, one hand going on his back and rubbing it soothingly, the other reaching between his thighs. He gives you a confused look. He probably expected you to humiliate him again and leave, but he’s starting to catch onto what you’re really doing. You keep caressing his back oh so gently as you rub your fingers against the folds of his nook.

            He’s dripping wet, and it’s too thick to be piss. Seems like he did like your knee there. It makes it easier for you to push two fingers inside him and start pumping them in and out, slick, wet sounds filling the room along with his pathetic whines and your heavy breathing.

“Fuck. You know, you’re beautiful like this, really. If I had known I’d have taken you before.”

            You keep fingering him, pushing at his inner walls, rubbing at them with the tip of your digits, occasionally groaning as your own bulge fucks you. Eventually you pull your fingers out of him with a wet pop and start undoing your pants. Your bulges come out, both of them covered in yellow material – one a bit more considering it was inside you. You start rubbing them against his thighs teasingly. But you don’t want to fuck him just yet. You want to play with his body before. You’ve waited long for this and you’re probably never getting a chance to do it again after this, so you have to get what you want now.

            You grab his plushy ass and push it up so he’s on his knees, and he somewhat complies, probably scared to resist you right now. His bulge isn’t totally erect yet, just a bit, so you grab it and squeeze it, starting to stroke it gently. He reacts immediately with soft muffled noises and slight shivering. How easy he is to the touch… You like that.

            When his bulge is totally elongated and throbbing you guide it towards his nook, and his eyes widen. He obviously wasn’t awaiting that. You guide it in the slit and push it so it enters his tight hole, and he groans and growls in a way that’s not even threatening at all in this situation. You watch, amazed, as you manage to push his bulge all the way inside of himself. For someone this small it’s not so bad in size. Of course not as big as yours, but still, it fills him up nicely. The folds of his nook are fluttering and shivering and it’s just beautiful. You bend over and start licking at the base of his bulge and his stretched entrance, tasting the bitter urine and the sweeter taste of material. The base of his shaft is moving a bit so you can guess it’s trashing furiously inside of him, and that’s probably why his groans are turning into what sounds like moans.

            You keep licking him, your wet tongue running all over him, before you sit up again and grab his hips to get him closer. Soon his ass is pushed against your crotch and you’re grinding between his legs roughly. He’s trying to make noise but you can’t hear it because of the gag so you reach with one hand to pull it out of his mouth.

            The sounds he’s making is what drives you off the edge and decides you to start fucking him. He’s whining and moaning and crying out, it’s all musical and beautiful and you want more of it. You grab your lower bulge and start pushing it against his nook. He makes a startled little yelp when he realizes what you’re about to do. His nook is already full with his own bulge, but you push a thumb inside him and hold it open for you. Your member starts pushing inside him and it’s so tight and hot in there, you almost can’t take it. He gasps and pants heavily, losing his breath, trying to catch it again, grunting in discomfort as you outstretch him. You go slow, not wanting to ruin him, and after a moment of pushing in you reach a dead end and his ass is against you again. Your top bulge is comfortably placed between his butt cheeks and when you start grinding into him, it rubs there pleasingly.

            You stop there for a moment, both of you breathing heavily, though you are from pleasure and he is most probably because he’s having trouble adjusting. You lean over him a bit and rub his back, pet his hair, stroke the base of his horns a bit. After a moment he finally relaxes a bit. You keep stroking his horns a bit and then you place your hands back on his hips, holding on them tightly as you start slowly thrusting in and out of him. The feeling of extreme tightness and both your bulges rubbing inside of him is incredible. You moan softly and he just whines and groans, but you note how those sounds are getting a bit less uncomfortable as time passes, and you know at least his body is enjoying it.

            You pick up the pace a bit. Your bulge was coated in your own material, his nook drips with violet, and he’s pissed all over himself, so lube isn’t something you lack. You doubt you could put so much inside of him if this wasn’t the case. Your member slips in and out of him faster and you realize his is starting to move too. Soon enough, both lengths are thrusting inside him. His noises have definitely turned into moans now. His face is completely flushed with violet and his eyes are a bit glossed over with tears. His wet lips are open and with all those sweet sounds of his, he really makes quite a scene in front of you. He’s so beautiful. You wonder how you never noticed it. You stroke his hips and smooth your hands over his sides, one reaching under him to caress his chest and play with his nipples.

            He starts groaning a bit again and for just a second you wonder what’s going on but you’re quick to understand. The bulge grinding between his ass cheeks is starting to poke at his waste chute and he obviously doesn’t like it. In your pleasure, you didn’t even notice it. You stop your grinding and think for a split second before you know that you’re obviously going to take this hole too. He’s yours right now, so you’re not going to stop at anything.

            You put one hand on the floor and soak it in his still warm piss, then start rubbing at the tight entrance of his ass. He lets out a sob as he realizes you’re going to push your urine-coated fingers inside him and squirms a bit. You can’t bring yourself to care. You hold him still with one hand on his hip and start pushing a finger in him. It’s hard because his body is resisting so you open your mouth to give him some advice.

“Relax. I’m gonna do this anyways, so it will hurt less if you let me.”

            It takes him a moment, but he seems to recognize the truth in that and you feel him try to relax around your finger. You push it in slow as possible until it’s in to the knuckle, and after a few thrusts you decide to slide another one in. Moving them a bit more in and out, then you start scissoring them inside him. He whines and pants under you and you can’t help but grin. He’s so cute. You part your fingers wide and he gasps as you stretch his chute and… Oh, man, that’s so filthy. You can see inside of him like this. It makes your bulges throb how hot this display is. You decide you’ve prepared him enough.

            You slip your fingers out of him, and take hold of your member to position it against his chute. It’s dripping with material from all that grinding, which makes pushing inside of him easier. You try to go slow and nice to avoid hurting him, but it’s a bit difficult with how good it feels and you end up pushing all the way inside him maybe a bit too fast. He’s shivering and letting out poor little gasps mixed with moans. You start soothingly rubbing his back and chest again, rolling one of his nipples under your thumb. When you pinch it he sobs and both his holes squeeze you tight. It’s delicious.

            You can’t even decide which of his chute or nook feels the best. You don’t care either. You start moving again, slow rolls of your hips guiding you in and out of him. You’re getting close. This is just awesome. You want to pump him full of your cum. The fact that he’s so perfect around you is tipping you over the edge so you reach under him and start stroking the base of his bulge which isn’t buried inside him. His moans intensify, his legs are trembling and you know they’re not going to hold him up very long. He’s probably about to cum considering how his noises are getting louder and he’s starting to push back against your bulges every time you move out of him. It’s awesome.

            You pinch his nipple again and this time he just wails. His holes are getting tight again and his bulge throbs, and that apparently makes him lose it. He cries out loud and beautiful and he fills himself up with his warm, sticky material. Shit. This is so hot! You take hold of his hips, grab them tight, and roughly push yourself all the way in his holes, grinding against him erratically to reach your release as he moans through his orgasm. It doesn’t take you long to get there too. It hits you suddenly. You feel a hot feeling crawling up your spine and you open your mouth to moan loudly as you fill him up even more, your bulges forcing an obscene amount of material in both his already full holes. You grind inside him for a bit more, riding out your release, and then slowly pull out. You can feel the material slosh inside him as you do.

            He sobs as your bulges slip out of him and material drips down his thighs and pours on the floor. How much even WAS in him? His stomach is a bit distended by the amount. You push two fingers inside of his nook and hold it open, your other hand working on his stomach to help him push all of the material out. Shit, you can see inside of him again. This is insane. And probably one of the best times of your life.

            When eventually you’re done with that, he collapses on the floor, trying to catch his breath, his eyes closed and his mouth a bit open. You wrap your arms around his tiny, shivering form and pick him up against you. You kiss his horns, which makes him jump a bit, and purr low for him, cradling him against your chest. He doesn’t push you away or say anything. He just lets himself be hugged.

“You’re so fucking pretty, Cronus.”

            He doesn’t seem to react much at first, but slowly his arms find their way around you. You’re not sure if he’s hugging you because he liked that or because he feels terrible, needs to hold someone, and has no one else than you. It’s okay with you. You soothe him by petting his hair and kissing his face. You don’t think you’re done with this seadweller yet.


	3. Owning nothing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mituna forgot.  
> Cronus didn't.  
> It's hard being the one who took it all and the one who still takes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty sure that's not what you guys wanted when you said you wanted a continuation.  
> I'm sorry.  
> (Actually I'm not sorry because hey the second chapter made me uncomfortably feel like a rape apologist and I hated that)

Your name is Cronus Ampora, and you have no one to blame.

Well, technically, you do. But it’s kinda hard to blame the retar—you mean, the mentally deficient guy who doesn’t remember at all what happened. Or rather, what he did.

You have to face him every day, and it’s hard. You don’t want to see him. At least he’s wearing his ugly helmet, so you don’t have to look at his face, but it doesn’t really help.

You hate him, and not even in the good way.

You can’t believe all the things he has. He has Latula – a girlfriend, and a cool one too. He has Kurloz – his stupid moirail always comes to beat you up if you try to mess with Mituna. Everyone at least likes him a little.

No one likes _you_.

Why does he have everything, and you have nothing, after what he did?

He broke everything you had, and no one ever knew, and no one ever blamed him. Of course they didn’t. He was the popular guy. And if you told anyone _now_ , nobody would believe you.

You hate all of this.

You find him again. He calls you a “wader” – he never said that before, a long time ago, when you were both kids and nothing had happened yet – and snarls at you. He asks if you’re going to hit on him, and that he would _never_ sleep with you, no way, not in his whole life. Afterlife, he means.

You almost snicker.

Eventually Latula shows up. She says you’re being a huge asshole—no, that’s not what she says. She says _you’re_ a huge asshole, she defines you as that, and she pushes you away.

You walk away.

You walk through the dream bubbles. You cross paths with a few people; none of them talk to you. They turn around, speed up, and look away; they do their best to avoid interaction. To avoid you.

You reach your hive; walk in the bathroom; sit on the toilet; you cry for some time. You jerk off. You’re still crying when you cum.

When you get up again, there’s a dream bubble here. It’s a memory of yours.

Someone is knocking on the door of your hive. Probably Latula – maybe Kurloz. Whoever it is is going to be an annoying piece of shit to you. Most likely about to punch you in the face for messing with boy genius Mituna Captor again.

You look at the dream bubble. You know what’s in there; every so often it appears exactly here, in your bathroom, close to the ablution trap, and you visit it sometimes. You stare at it for a moment.

The knocking on the door continues for a minute, and then you hear the creak of the door opening.

You open the dream bubble and walk in.

They’re on the floor; they’re always on the floor. Of course they are, it’s a memory. It can’t change. You can’t change it. You know that already. You’ve tried to stop them – to stop him. It never works. You can’t even touch them. They can’t feel you, hear you.

You’re crying. Both of you. The younger you, his glasses discarded on the floor, is crying the hardest. He’s trying to crawl away and you know why. You want to help him. Of course, you can’t. You never can.

You sit on the floor, a few feet away from them, and you look. You stare. You cry some more.

Then there are footsteps, and you don’t understand because no one walked inside the hive at that time; how come someone is walking in this time?

You raise your head.

Kurloz is here. You didn’t think he’d enter the bubble. You didn’t think he’d have any interest in the small memory sphere floating in the bathroom.

He stares at the scene with wide eyes for a moment. You want to cover your ears. The sounds they’re both making are just disgusting. The younger you is somewhere between crying and moaning, and it’s ugly.

Kurloz looks at you. You look back. His eyes are still wide open and he looks terrified. You’re still crying – both of you.

You know he understands. He understands _everything_ now.

You feel viciously relieved.


	4. Memory of a memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lovely boyfriend wrote this! A take on this story from Kurloz's point of view.

Your name is Kurloz Makara, and your moirail is not who he used to be. You don't love him any less because of it, and perhaps you care even more, but... Sometimes it's hard to recognize in this blubbering, clumsy idiot, your Mituna. It's hard, and nobody understands. 

You should have gotten used to seeing him like this, but you just can't. Even though eons have passed, you kept exploring the dream bubbles and collecting memories, piece by piece. Some may find it creepy. Then again, even if they found out, it wouldn't change much: they have a lot of other things to find you creepy for. So you have zero remorse as you delve for shards from people's minds and compose the never finished puzzle, the picture of the Mituna you used to know. 

You preserve each and every one of them, guarding them like a lusus guards its grub. Good and bad, you value all of them equally. Or, at least, almost equally - there is one you cherish the most, the very last memory of that Mituna Captor. It also is one of the rarest memories, for only you and him were witnessing it, and he does not remember much. Every new instance of his past you get from other trolls, and, with time passing, it gets harder and harder to find something you have not yet seen.

This is why, when you find this particular one, you are so surprised. You are surprised even more when you take into consideration the place where you found it. The bathroom of no one else but his old enemy, who somehow transformed from his nerdy victim to the asshole that stooped as low as bullying your handicapped palemate. 

In fact, his bullying is the reason why you find yourself in his hive in the first place. You are pretty sure that he is inside when you came to his door. Despite your hate for him you are polite enough to knock at his door for a minute before inviting yourself inside, when he, being his usual douchey self, does not answer. He is nowhere to be seen and you were considering finishing your pursuit, but you decide to check one last place.

The bubble floats next to the ablution trap. You wait for him to leave the bubble - you are not interested in his memories. Or you were not - until you heard Mituna's voice, followed by sounds you couldn't help frowning at. You know that Cronus is one shameless bastard, but you have a feeling that you are about to find out even more. The more you hear, the more you feel your blood boil. He is reliving the memory of abusing your moirail, you can picture him watching it with that disgusting grin of his, and possibly touching himself to it. You break into the bubble and freeze.

You almost don't notice the transition between this memory and what the room looked like when you entered. It is very detailed, eerily so. You from your experience know that memories tend to change with time, become blurred, and some parts are refilled with inaccurate details, but this one was preserved to the last crack in the tiles. The whole picture, the sounds, the smells, everything remains in a perfectly fresh state, just as it was when it was seen first.

Exactly the way the memories of major trauma are. That, you also know from your experience, you know it better than you wish you did.

He is there, sitting on the floor, next to a younger copy of himself. Neither copy seems to mind the puddles of violet liquid, or to notice it at all. They are both crying.

You don't want to know why. You wish you didn't know why.

But you do.

And even if your mouth hadn't been stitched.

Even if your tongue wasn't bitten off.

You would still be left speechless.


End file.
